


mop

by professortennant



Category: Stargate SG-1
Genre: Bath Sex, Bathtubs, Established Relationship, F/M, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-04
Updated: 2018-09-04
Packaged: 2019-07-07 00:57:54
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,788
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15897642
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/professortennant/pseuds/professortennant
Summary: After a long day, Sam and Jack make great use of their bathtub.





	mop

**Author's Note:**

  * For [AgentKalGibbs](https://archiveofourown.org/users/AgentKalGibbs/gifts).



The quick, cursory shower at the SGC base was enough to scrape off the grime and dirt and sweat from their last mission, but it did nothing to wipe away the bone-deep weariness and fatigue. Hot water was a commodity and they both knew better than to linger in the showers together.

Instead, they slipped into their civvies and he threw an arm around her shoulder and let her lean against him as they made their way top-side, sliding into the warm cab of his truck, and heading for home. Sam leaned her head on his shoulder and let her eyes slip close, breathing him in and dozing off, trusting him to get them home safely. 

She’d never been so grateful to be married to him--a General with the perks to accompany his wife on the occasional mission. And this mission had gone about as badly as it could go. Finally safe and back on Earth, she was relieved there was no need to hide how much they both needed the other.

When they pulled into their driveway and stumbled into their foyer, Jack threaded his fingers through her hair and tugged her close, dropping a soft kiss to her mouth and releasing her, patting her backside playfully. “Get it started,” he said with a grin. “I’ll be up in a second.”

Wasting no time in collecting the bottle of their favorite wine and a pair of glasses, Jack made a beeline for the master bathroom and stopped to admire his wife. She had stripped down to her skivvies and was sitting on the ledge of the tub, working the knobs and testing the water to get it to the perfect temperature before pouring in a generous helping of bubble bath solution and bath salts. 

She’d lit the few candles around the edge of the bathroom counter and between the faint glow of the candle, the prospect of wine, the sound of the water, and the sight of Samantha Carter-O’Neill in nothing but her underwear and bra, he was already feeling the stress of the day melt away.

Padding over to her softly, he dropped a kiss to the nape of her neck, nosing at her neck and shoulders. “I think you’re supposed to strip completely for this to be effective.”

She lolled her head back and grinned at him, plucking lazily at his tee shirt. “Look who’s talking.”

While the tub continued to fill, Jack poured them both a glass of wine and stripped down before helping Sam out of her bra and panties. It didn’t matter that they’d been married for years or that he’d seen her naked more times than he could count, she still took his breath away.

He wolf-whistled appreciatively and she rolled her eyes at him before getting an impish look in her eyes and bending over  _very_  suggestively to turn the taps off. Grabbing her glass of wine, she slid into the mountain of bubbles and groaned at the feel of the hot water. 

He stood there, gaping for a moment. She looked like a goddess and he was more than happy to worship at her altar. And then she frowned when he didn’t make a move to join her and flicked a handful of bubbles at him. 

“Move it, General.”

With a lazy, half-hearted salute, Jack grabbed his own glass of wine and carefully slid in behind her, letting the water slosh around the tub as he extended his legs on either side of her.

Sam wriggled back and settled herself against his chest, letting the heat of the water and his body seep into her, and she let out a deep, content sigh. 

Jack dipped his head and let his lips brush alongside the cords of her neck, pressing barely-there kisses to her skin. “Today was hard,” he murmured against her. “But you did good.”

With his free hand, he wrapped his arm around her midsection and stroked over her belly--not inherently sexual, but grounding and comforting. She sighed and tilted her head, reaching up behind her and threading her fingers through his hair softly, encouraging him to keep his mouth against her skin.

“I’m glad you were there with us. I forgot how much I missed you in the field.”

It had been a hard adjustment to make during the early days of their relationship. She’d come to rely upon him in the field and the first tentative steps into leadership felt shaky without him. But between her experience and the things she had learned from him while she was under his command, it took very little time for her to come into her own, leading as naturally as breathing.

Jack kissed the patch of skin beneath her ear and let his hands wander further down her abdomen, stroking the crease of her thigh and teasing her opening. She squirmed in his arms and he latched his mouth to the junction of her neck and shoulder once more, setting his wine down on the edge of the tub and using his now-free hand to cup and palm her breasts.

“Jack,” she said breathlessly, pushing back against him and sending the water sloshing dangerously close to the edge.

“Shh,” he soothed, rolling and pinching her nipple between his thumb and forefinger while his other hand stroked along her sex, slipping two fingers inside of her slowly, gently. “Let me take care of you.”

It was exactly the kind of thing he’d have liked to do for her in those early years of working together--after Antarctica and Ra and Cassie and her father. Those times when she’d look at him with those wide, blue eyes and wordlessly ask that he ease their burden. 

She let her thighs fall open as much as possible and let her husband simply touch her slick body, hands massaging in the bath oils along her skin and stroking over her, finding all of the places that made her squirm: the inside of her elbow, a nail dragged down her forearm, the graze of his fingers along her ribs, and his mouth ever present on her neck and jaw and shoulders. 

His cock was hard against the small of her back and she wriggled slightly, trying give him some friction and pleasure in return. He hissed and tightened his arms around her, holding her steady.

“Hey, hey,” he scolded breathlessly. “This is for you.”

Sam huffed in frustration and tilted her head back, trying to catch his eye. “Want you,” she said petulantly. After the day they’d had, there was nothing more she wanted to do than to sink back into his arms and have him fill her--own her--completely. 

He leaned forward and captured her lips with his, sucking softly on her bottom lip before deepening the kiss and sweeping his tongue into her mouth, stroking over the roof of her mouth and along the inside of her cheek before pulling away, the angle uncomfortable, and nipping teasingly at her lips. 

His hand continued working softly between her legs, stroking and pressing against her clit and slipping inside of her, applying pressure where she needed it most.

“Tell me, doctor,” he teased, enjoying the breathless way she keened and chased his lips. “What happens when two masses displace water and apply energy and movement in rapid succession?”

With a twist of his hand, his thumb found her clit and she gasped, straining up out of the water and against his chest, breathing harshly. “ _Jack.”_

 _“_ What happens?” he ground out, trying to remember not to thrust against her back, to not seek friction in the crease of her six.

Sam wordlessly gaped at him, eyes glazing over as he picked up the pace between her legs, stroking and thrusting and pushing her closer and closer over the edge.

He closed his lips around the lobe of her ear and sucked before biting down briefly and whispering in her ear, “A big fucking mess, Sam.” He sucked and laved at the pulse point in her neck and let the rocking water lap at her sensitive breasts while he finished her off between her legs. 

From the way she was tensing and clenching around his fingers, he knew she was close. “Come for me, Sam,” he commanded, his voice rumbling against her ear. 

Lifting her hands and threading them up behind her and slipping them into his hair, keeping him pressed close and scraping her nails along his scalp, causing him to hiss out her name, she writhed against him, panting out his name and a litany of curses. 

“ _Fuck, Jack. Yes. Yes. God, right there.”_

She came on his fingers with his name on her lips and her hands in his hair, the hot water now lukewarm and splashing up over her bare breasts. He eased his fingers from her body and pushed her hair from her eyes, taking all of her weight as she went boneless and breathless against him, lazily stroking her fingers over his forearm, tracing the veins beneath his skin.

“Jack?”

He hummed in response, pleased she was as relaxed as she was, and continued his gentle exploration of her body, hands ghosting and slipping over the slick skin.

“I still want you.” 

He jumped and sent a wave of water over the side of the tub as she reached behind her and between their bodies to wrap her hand around his cock, tightening her grip on him and brushing her thumb over the head of his cock. 

“What about the mess?”

She turned in his arms, sending more water flowing over the edge of the tub. For a moment, he was stunned speechless as a soaking wet Samantha Carter, illuminated by candlelight and the flush of an orgasm, made her way towards him.

And then her mouth was on his, her hand on his cock and her legs on either side of his hips, guiding herself down onto him. He slipped inside her tight body with a groan and she panted as she took all of him in, her body greedily clenching at him. 

“God,  _Sam.”_

The water sloshed as he involuntarily thrust against her and she grinned, kissing him deeply and messily, tongues and teeth clashing. His hands slipped and slid over her slick body and the heady fragrance of the bath oils and Sam made his head spin. 

And still, the water splashed out into the bathroom. 

Sam broke the kiss and squeezed her inner muscles, drawing a groan from him.

“We have a mop,” she reminded him, smiling coyly and rocking against him. 

Later, boneless and satiated and completely stress free, Jack O’Neill had never been so happy to mop a bathroom in his life. 

 


End file.
